


so close to perfect

by Kamiizumi



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Confessions, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, M/M, MINSUNG FICATHON, Snowed In, a bit of kid!minsung, minsung - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:55:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29397291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamiizumi/pseuds/Kamiizumi
Summary: in which a pair of twenty-somethings spend the holidays snowed in by their lonesome and rediscover a childhood that connects them - and simultaneously explains and unravels their undeniable connection.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 14
Kudos: 69
Collections: MINSUNG FICATHON: Round One; 2020





	so close to perfect

**Author's Note:**

> `Written for [MINSUNG FICATHON](http://twitter.com/minsungficathon), for PROMPT **P033**`
> 
> ahhhh welcome to minsung ficathon! this is my first of two prompts written for the event and i hope you enjoy this dose of sweetness that was a bit of a journey for me lmao

Inseparable, people called them. Stuck at the hip, peas in a pod, the peanut butter to his jelly — all sorts of fun monikers that indicated Minho had more than a passing interest in his  _ de facto _ best friend Jisung. And while Minho would have eagerly shut down any sort of insinuation, his actions always spoke louder in his stead. Whether it was showing up announced to each other’s home with a DVD and a box of microwave popcorn, or spontaneous study sessions turned into nighttime joyrides through the streets of Seoul. Is it two boys just being the bestest of pals, or is there something hiding just underneath, untouched and with untapped potential? 

(And it wouldn’t be the first time he’s pondered the reality of being in a relationship with Han Jisung, either.)

“You know, I’ve always stayed at your apartment back in uni, but this is the first time I’ve ever been to your  _ actual _ place.” Minho turns back to see Jisung gawking at the interior of his living room like it was made of solid gold.

“You say that, but I’m also used to you just crashing at my apartment when you’re too drunk to take a cab back to your place. Seriously, why did you get an apartment  _ thirty minutes away _ from the city?”

Jisung chuckles and whines behind him. “It’s all about saving money, hyung.”

Minho is about to open his mouth for another witty remark, but the feeling of warm bodies slinking around his legs is enough to attract his attention; his cats have realized his arrival.

It was difficult to pinpoint the  _ exact _ moment where they became fast friends, having only met in university due to having overlapping schedules, and yet, they shared more than a few classes together as a junior in engineering and an aspiring freshman vying for advertising and marketing. Did the differences in their vocations make it difficult for them to find a common thread?  _ Of course not. _

It just felt...familiar. They’d only known each other since college, and yet Jisung felt more akin to a childhood friend, or a once-forgotten pen pal. Minho never believed in all that destiny hocus pocus and fate mumbo jumbo but...he was hard-pressed to even think of anyone else in the world that could be his, bluntly put, other half. 

Of course, this wasn’t something they ever talked about, but Minho was fairly certain Jisung shared the sentiment.

“Remind me again why you’re spending the holidays with me and my folks? I wasn’t really paying attention to what you said when we were driving over here.”

“That’s cruel, hyung.”

“Forgive me for keeping my attention on the road.” Minho smirks as he picks up one of his cats and begins making kissy faces at its snout. “You know how snowy it gets during this time of the year.”

Jisung quickly shuffles over to the cats pawing at Minho’s pant legs and bends over to associate himself with them, happy to know that the felines didn’t seem to dislike him. “My parents went on vacation in Malaysia for the holidays...something about wanting to get out of the cold or whatever. Naturally, I couldn’t join them because I wasn’t able to get work off for the week after New Year’s...and my parents said they’d be gone for two whole weeks. Imagine that.”

“I wish I could,” Minho mutters, still staring at his cat’s beady eyes. “Don’t you agree, Soonie.” The tabby simply meows and squirms until its owner releases him, opting instead to situate itself on the floor with the other two felines. “Your parents are smart though, choosing to forgo the cold like that by leaving the country for a bit. How come you didn’t inherit any of their intellect?”

“Now  _ that’s _ cold, hyung.”

Minho looks down to see Jisung pouting at him as all three of his cats are still slinking around him like sharks circling their prey, and chooses to match his expression with a cheeky grin.

“Anywho,” the older boy begins, picking up his duffel bag and hauling it over his shoulder. “My parents are at my aunt’s right now, and they probably won’t be back until midnight.”

“They know you’re coming, right?”

“Yeah, though I did spring it on them a little late,” the older boy replies with a small laugh. “Should be okay though. Just make yourself at home. My room’s on the right down the hallway.”

“Got it!” Jisung calls out, before padding down the hardwood floors with all the excitement of a twelve year old at their first sleepover. The childish sight is...more than fitting, Minho quickly decides, a gentle smile already tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Minho-hyung?” Jisung’s voice is deep and throaty reverberating down the walls of the hallway.

“Yeah?”

“You mind if I shower first? I’ll be fast!”

“Take your time; you stink!” Jisung’s telltale whining is audible enough, and Minho serves himself a deserved laugh. “Bathroom’s down the hallway on the right!”

Not long after does the sound of running water emanate from behind the bathroom door, and soon after that, Jisung singing some pop song overdramatically as if he was in his own bathroom back at his own apartment. (Minho doesn’t mind, because Jisung is a  _ fantastic _ singer, by the way.)

While it would be nice to listen to Jisung croon for the next five minutes, there was still plenty to do and prep around the house, especially since it was his first time home in such a while. He needed to check the litter boxes, see if his parents left any food out for the both of them, find spare blankets and pillows and — 

A sudden buzz in his pockets pulls his attention away, and Minho immediately fishes out his phone, recognizing all too well the name that is written right on top.

“Hello?”

_ “Ah, you answered!” _

Minho’s eyes roll. “Yes, Mom, I’m home. We just got here, actually.”

_ “Oh, Minho, that’s wonderful. I know I said your father and I would be home by midnight, but it seems the snow is getting too thick for us to drive back in, so we decided to just stay the night at your aunt’s.” _

Before Minho even gets another word in, his father’s voice is suddenly on the other line.

_ “And good thing too, since you two would be snowed in on the road if you were even an hour late!” _

“Hi Dad,” he deadpans, a hint of a smirk on his face.

_ “Hello son,” _ and Minho could see the smile on his father’s face already.  _ “Forgive us for the slight snag in the plans, but we’ll be home tomorrow morning for sure. You two kids stay warm and cozy, alright?”  _

_ “And check the fridge! I left some food in there earlier that you can just reheat! Love you!” _

His mother always succeeded at pulling a smile from him. “Thanks. Love you too, Mom. See you tomorrow morning.”

_ “Muah, muah, okay, bye! And tell your friend I said hi!” _

“Will do.”

Minho sighs while pocketing his phone and lets the cats roam freely once more as he hauls his duffel bag to his own room. As he expected, Jisung’s own bag was already sitting half open on the floor, erupted like a can of ravioli over an open flame in a silly video he had once watched. He’ll unpack after he gets dinner prepped for the both of them and when Jisung is done with the bathroom.

Halfway through stirring the big pot of  _ doenjang-jjigae _ his mother put away, Minho finally hears the bathroom door swing open, complete with the crunchy sound of music playing through phone speakers and rightfully accompanied by Jisung’s overly enthusiastic singing. Just hearing the younger man’s melodic  _ I can’t stop me, I can’t stop me _ floating down the hallway already sets a smile on Minho’s face — if mostly because he’s seconds away from laughing.

“Speak of the devil,” he says without even sparing Jisung a glance as he enters the kitchen of his volition. But when he  _ does _ lift his gaze to the younger boy, his eyes...linger just a tiniest bit, taking up the relaxed fit of Jisung’s oversized sweater and the way his wet, black hair starkly contrasts the rosy tinge of his puffy cheeks.

“That’s not a very nice way to refer to your guest.”

“From the looks of it, it would seem you’ve already made yourself  _ too  _ comfortable in my house.”

“Touché,” Jisung replies, a smirk hanging off the corners of his mouth as he teeters over next to Minho. “Wow, did you make this while I was in the shower?”

“Of course not. But my mom did. She called actually, said they wouldn’t make it home because the snow is getting too thick for the night so it’s just gonna be us here.”

“Oh? ...Eh?”

“What?  _ Now _ you’re acting modest?” Minho simply snickers to himself while turning off the stove. “I already put out some bowls and utensils for us. Help yourself while I go ahead and take a shower. Oh, and pick out a DVD for us to watch; they’re all on the shelf in my room.” Jisung’s combination reaction of bewilderment and excitement is nothing but cute in his eyes, and Minho decides to finish the conversation by ruffling the wet mop of his hair — much like one would to a dog.

Before he even enters the bathroom, Jisung takes on the gargantuan task of sifting through his DVD collection like a college student with a dozen textbooks at their library desk. A twinge of concern tugs at his being — just the idea, really, of Jisung suddenly plunging his otherwise tidy room into sudden chaos is something to think about, but Minho decides not to dwell on it for too long.

So it shouldn’t have been surprising to come out of his bathroom, nice and toasty after a hot shower, and immediately see all his DVD cases scattered on the floor; Minho’s gutpunch reaction is to smack Jisung upside the head for making a mess. What  _ is _ surprising, however, is the object currently sitting in Jisung’s lap that is very much not a DVD case. It’s a tin lunch box, faded red and blue with a cartoon superhero emblazoned on the front. Minho knew it wasn’t super valuable, but seeing it again in Jisung’s possession is enough to take his breath away somehow.

“...Hey, whatcha got there?”

The sound of his voice is enough to make Jisung flinch, and the lunch box sitting on his lap slides onto the floor with a clatter.

“O-Oh, I didn’t realize you finished showering. Sorry about the mess, I —”

“No, no, it’s fine. I was just...surprised.” His voice is much calmer, quieter, than he expects, and he’s careful not to step on any of the DVD cases littered on the floor when he takes a seat next to Jisung. “So, are you gonna answer my question or not?”

Jisung stares at him all weird, because it’s  _ Minho’s _ room but he’s the one getting grilled on the spot about  _ Minho’s _ belongings. (Jisung bites anyway, because they’re friends like that.)

“This...lunchbox,” the younger starts, picking it up from where it slid to on the floor. “I used to have one just like it when I was a kid, funny enough.” A lighthearted chuckle slips from Jisung’s lips and a bit of tension thaws off of Minho’s chest. “I don’t remember where it went though. I remember liking it a lot, too.”

“Really? I’ve had this one since I was a kid too.”

“You keep any secret stuff here? I have no idea why else you would keep such a...childish thing around — ow!”

“It’s called being sentimental, dummy,” Minho mutters after flicking him in the forehead. “I don’t even remember what I keep inside this old thing.” A quick shake of the tin box reveals the sound of...something rattling among other things.

“...Do you remember what’s inside?”

“Well...let’s see.”

Of course it seemed perfectly normal to the both of them — a pair of twenty-somethings living on their own — to reenact the perfect sleepover: movies, food, being home alone on a weekend. However, the age-old idea of watching movies to the wee hours was quickly discarded in favor of opening the familiar tin box. Like cars rolling up to a drive-in theater, Minho’s trio of cats entered the room and promptly situated themselves around the pair, as if wanting to witness a relic of the ages; the tin lunch box being some sort of makeshift time capsule...a portal into Minho’s childhood. Now  _ this _ was something Jisung was interested in, and a topic Minho never bothered breaching for no particular reason.

The clasps on the front of the box scrape against each other in a less than satisfactory way, perhaps due to the way they’ve rusted over slightly, but it’s not the end of the world.

“This isn’t a weed stash, is it?”

“Dude, shut up.”

Minho doesn’t even remember the contents of the box, so he’s somewhat justified in feeling a bit nervous opening it up in front of Jisung. (A type of  _ Pandora’s Box _ , if you will.) A little bit of force and finagling later, and the lunch box opens up in a comical fashion, minuscule dust cloud and all. A truly curious sight greets them from within.

There are a few marbles, of different swirling colors and sizes. A dilapidated, frayed cootie catcher (or fortune teller, depending on the person) with scrawled and faded handwriting on the sides; upon careful inspection, the folded piece of paper barely fits over Minho’s fingers, eliciting a chuckle from Jisung. Some colored pencils with dulled points and yet...still so vibrant in color. (Crayola, because Minho would never have it any other way.) What looked like a charm bracelet, far too small for either Minho or Jisung, clumsily tied together with an elastic string and dotted with a random assortment of beads.

While it’s clear that these are keepsakes from childhood, Minho still regards them with care and precision, like the tiny charm bracelet was made of gold and diamond instead. His eyes glaze over upon twisting some of the beads, slowly reading  _ M + J FRI3ND5 4EV3R _ woven through the string. Admittedly, it is hard to read all at once, since the lettering takes up nearly the entire length of the string, but the effort is enough to make Minho chuckle.

“M and J, huh…” Jisung muses, reaching over to trace his fingers over the flimsy beadwork. Minho notices the way his eyes linger for much longer than he initially expects, especially notices the curious gaze painted over Jisung’s expression. The younger boy chuckles after a few moments, his lips curling into the slightest hint of a smile. “Is this from a childhood crush or something?”

“Maybe,” Minho mutters, rolling the bracelet around between his fingers.

“It’s kinda cute. It...looks kinda familiar, I…” Jisung’s voice falters just as he falls back into that curious expression, eyes still glued to the bracelet as if he knows more about it than Minho does. “I really didn’t think you were so sappy like this, hyung.”

“God, you’re so annoying.”

They both laugh as Minho replaces the tiny bracelet back inside the box. A small rectangular card hidden deep behind the other items catches his eyes instead.

“Wonder what this is,” he murmurs, letting his fingers trace over the hard edges.

Jisung leans in closer as Minho slips his hand over the small card; it’s a polaroid, and the both of them stare in silence as their eyes focus on the scene pictured on the front side of the photograph.

It’s a picture of two children at the beach, no older than nine or ten, their backs to the ocean, and their bright, toothy grins lighting up the portrait. They had their arms wrapped around each other’s sun-kissed shoulders, and from the looks of it, they were probably having the time of their lives. The boy on the left had the puffiest pair of cheeks, and a gummy grin that was the spitting image of Jisung.

Minho immediately recognized the boy on the right...as himself.

“...Are you — “

“Is this — “

The photo slips from Minho’s fingers as they turn to face each other, bewilderment cleanly mirrored between their faces. Almost as if on cue, they both point at each other, then back down at the photo, and finally break out into simultaneous laughter.

_ “No way.” _

“This is...wow. Holy shit.”

Minho can see the realization dawning in his mind reflected on Jisung’s grinning face.

* * *

_ The year is 2009. The warm sun, white sands, and cool waters of Jeju are unlike anything Minho’s ever experienced before. It’s easy to wish to stay here forever...but all good things come to an end sooner or later. _

__ _ A little boy is standing just a few paces away from him, his round cheeks streaked with tears and his parents laughing and rubbing his back in consolation. _

__ _ “Jisung, don’t cry in front of your friend...go ahead and give them your gift, sweetie. They’re waiting for you.” _

__ _ Jisung looks ridiculous crying like this — maybe because Minho’s more used to seeing him smiling and laughing — and even now he can’t help but stifle his laughter while the other boy is sniffling away and wiping at his runny nose. _

__ _ “...H-Hyung…!” Jisung comes bumbling over, his wobbly eight year old knees pushing him just close enough before he could fall to the ground and scrape them. Minho wants nothing more than to ruffle his hair and clap him on the back like any sensible friend would do. “I just wanted to give — hic — this to you.” _

__ _ At once, he bows his head and shoves something in Minho’s face: a vibrantly colored tin lunch box with a cartoon emblazoned right across the front. _

__ _ “Thank you for being my friend!” _

__ _ Minho stares at him for a good few seconds before breaking out into raucous laughter. The sound of confusion that leaves Jisung’s mouth lasts only for so long as the older boy pulls him into a tight hug. Of course, the younger of the two only cries harder while Minho begins ruffling his hair. _

__ _ “Let’s meet again someday, Sungie.” _

__ _ “P-Pinky promise?” _

__ _ They pull away from each other, both of their cheeks now stained with tears and yet smiles still wide and unblemished. Minho moves first, holding out his pinky finger proudly. _

__ _ “Promise.” _

__ _ Jisung grins up at him and eagerly links his own hand with Minho’s, wringing their fingers tightly as the sound of their parents laugh and cheer behind them. _

* * *

His eyes have gotten teary, not because it’s some dramatic reunion that only happens in soap operas and romance films, but because he can’t stop laughing at the idea that he and Jisung first met as kids...and just never remembered it actually happened. Right next to him, Jisung is dumbfounded, his jaw hanging open as more of their shared memories come to the surface.

“So...it was you and me, in Jeju…”

“With the bead bracelets! Remember, we took that arts and crafts class at the resort — “

“ — And  _ my  _ bracelet broke the moment we left — “

“So I gave you  _ that one  _ instead!”

Minho pauses to wipe away at the corners of his eyes. “And  _ you _ couldn’t stop crying that last day for some reason.”

“I was  _ eight years old! _ It’s not like I had any concept of reeling in my emotions! And  _ you _ just kept laughing at me!”

“Because it was funny. And I’m still laughing.” And so he does, ignoring Jisung playfully pounding on his arm. “Wow...it’s so crazy and absolutely stupid that we’re only finding this out now. How could we forget something like that? We were literally...inseparable on that week-long vacation.”

“We spent that first day at the beach doing  _ everything _ together. Our parents couldn’t get over the idea of separating us after that first day,” Jisung muses, with a dreamy look in his eyes and a pleasant lilt to his voice. “...Ain’t that a bit ridiculous? We promised to meet each other again and…”

“...Here we are.” One last chuckle slips out of Minho’s mouth as his voice softens to nearly a whisper — just light enough that only Jisung could hear what he was saying. “Now I’m not one to believe in like...fate or destiny or soulmates but…” His tongue darts out to swipe at his bottom lip.

“But…?”

The reality of the current situation comes rushing back to Minho, as if someone has burst open a dam and the floodwaters are about to crash upon him. There’s that thought again, that nagging feeling that maybe, just  _ maybe  _ there’s something a little deeper between him and Jisung. His best friend for more than a few years now, and even longer, as the rediscovery of their childhood pact serves to prove that  _ maybe  _ fate did dip its toes in the water. That so many factors led to them being holed up in Minho’s childhood home all by themselves on the eve of a snowstorm, just so Minho could see the beautiful, mirthful look on Jisung’s face when he finds out he’d kept a treasure of their fated friendship from when they were still bumbling kids.

“...I-It’s nothing. I’m just rambling. C’mon, you loser, let’s clean up and pick out a movie — “

“Hyung,” Jisung interrupts, shortly before chuckling and sliding his hand over Minho’s, still clasped over the bracelet in the lunch box. “...You don’t have to keep pretending. At least, I hope you’re not pretending but...I’d like to think I know you pretty well by now.”

His chest expands with a deep inhale and Minho realizes too late that Jisung probably noticed his apprehension. Nevertheless, he humors the younger boy and faces him, eyes lingering just for seconds on the way Jisung’s long messy hair frames his round cheeks. His hand twitches under Jisung’s touch, and he’s hyper aware of the way the younger boy’s thumb has begun stroking the back of his hand — one of Jisung’s quirks of comfortable intimacy.

“And what exactly am I pretending to be?”

“Pretending that you and I can’t be more than just friends.”

The silence in the room is deafening, and in the seconds after where Minho is doing nothing but staring right into Jisung’s eyes, it really feels like time has paused. Like God himself was giving him the moment to gather his thoughts, just so he doesn’t screw up what to do next.

“We can start,” Minho begins with a deep sigh, before proactively linking his hand with Jisung’s, “by not acting so weird around each other like this.” He stares at their hands, comfortably grasped around each other, for a few seconds before lifting his gaze up toward Jisung. “Because we  _ know _ each other better than this. We don’t have to say anything about it, but we know.”

“Y-Yeah. I get you.” Jisung clamps down on his lip in that typical anxious fashion of his, and the way his cheeks puff out only make him cuter as a result.

“Say...you  _ are _ thinking exactly what  _ I’m _ thinking right now. And if we’re on the same wavelength then...one of us has to be impulsive and do something about it. Right?”

“Uh huh…”

“So…?” He inhales again and stares at Jisung, a thin, plastic smile stretching across his face.

“So you’re saying I should…”

“Sungie,  _ please _ don’t make me spell it out for you.”

“Okay! ...Okay. Because you said so.”

They sit there staring at each other like ducks in a pond for perhaps...half a second, before Jisung releases his hand from Minho’s hold in favor of grabbing him by his neck and pulling him in for a clumsy, bruising, and all too sweet kiss.

Minho pushes him away after five seconds because admittedly it’s a  _ terrible _ first kiss. “You’re so bad at this. I regret everything.”

“That’s so harsh, hyung!”

“Fine, fine! Kiss me again. And go slow, you’re not in a pie eating contest.”

“Yes, sir…” Jisung drawls, leaning into Minho’s open embrace and slinging his arms around his neck. When their lips meet this time, it’s even sweeter, but smooth like their favorite brand of black coffee and  _ just _ as addictive, if them alternating between crushing their mouths together and pulling away to burn holes into each other’s eyes is any indication.

“Hyung...I like this a lot. So warm. So pleasant.”

“Thank you, I do like to keep my house at a sensible 74 degrees.”

“You’re so cheesy,” the younger of the two laughs, moving in to peck the corners of Minho’s lips again. “I can’t believe it took an old lunch box and a badly made bracelet for us to...get to this point.”

“I’m just glad you didn’t think I was setting all this up by getting you alone in my house in the middle of a snowstorm,” Minho murmurs as a languid, cat-like smile perks his cheeks up.

“Frankly, I don’t know if you’d ever go through that much trouble on purpose.”

“...Yeah, I wouldn’t.”

Laughter breaks out between the two of them again, but...it feels too natural, like this was something that was already  _ the norm _ for them.

“So…”

“So…?”

“What do I call you now? Calling you  _ hyung _ just feels weird.” Jisung’s fingers brush lightly at the shorter hairs on the back of his neck, sending shivers across his skin.

“I dunno.  _ Boyfriend _ seems to have a nice ring to it.”

“Boyfriend,” Jisung repeats, in a playful, almost trance-like manner. Minho notices all too well the way he’s staring at his mouth, and suddenly his brain is filled with nothing but thoughts of kissing Jisung silly again.

Unfortunately, one of them has to be the mature, responsible one (and nine times out of ten it’s usually Minho).

He shoves a hand in Jisung’s face, before completely dislodging himself from him and leaving the younger boy whining on the floor. “You may be  _ boyfriend _ now, but you’re still  _ house guest _ inside my home. Now help me clean up this mess so we can actually get to watching a movie, like I said we would.”

“Fine, okay… You’re so mean sometimes, hyung,” Jisung laughs, reaching up to grab Minho’s outstretched hand. The grin already plastered across his features instantly widens in surprise when the older boy pecks him right on top of his crown.

“I’m going to go get some food for us and tuck the cats in. This place better be spotless when I come back.”

“Yes, sir…”

Minho lingers at the doorway for just a few seconds, and Jisung manages to catch a glimpse of his cheshire-like smirk just before he treads down the hallway.

He’ll breach the topic of his childhood best friend with his parents when the morning comes. But for now...he and Jisung have a  _ lot _ of catching up to do.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! i actually had quite some fun writing for this prompt because i thought it was super sweet and something i'd never thought about doing before. please leave a comment if you enjoyed it, and don't forget to check out the other fics in the collection!


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